


Spider's Web

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for SPN A/B/O Bingo. Square filled: Arranged Marriage





	Spider's Web

You were trapped.

The white lace bodice was your prison, and your mother’s proud tears of happiness were nothing but a mirage in the desert. Your father was beaming, pleased that you were doing this, thinking that you were happy to do this. But nothing about this made you happy.

In thirty minutes, you were going to be Mrs Shawn Peterson.

Tradition called for nothing less - two strong bloodlines, one with an Omega daughter and one with an Alpha son, betrothed since puberty. They expected you to be his Omega, to bear his pups, to make the union of two families strong. There was one problem with that expectation - you already had an Alpha.

Shawn was a meek, unintimidating Alpha, who was attractive enough for a man that could probably do with less of his mother’s home cooked meals, but you were repulsed by him. He chewed with his mouth open, his laugh was a high pitched snort that made you want to claw his eyes out, and he had no manners whatsoever. His beliefs were self-righteous at best, and colored with phobias at worst. No, he was not the Alpha you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

The thought of seeing him naked made you want to vomit down the pretty white dress his mother had decided you were wearing. Nothing in this wedding was yours, not even your hand.

“You look so beautiful,” your father cooed, cupping your cheek, and you couldn’t even muster a smile to respond. He must have been able to see it in your eyes - but if he did, he ignored it, turning to the wedding planner to run through the last minute details. Shawn’s two Beta sisters hovered behind you, looking more bodyguard than bridesmaids, and you looked down at your immaculately manicured nails, wondering how hard it would be to run in the sickly beige high heels you couldn’t even walk in.

“The cars are here!” Someone called, and you sighed, allowing them to parade you out to the white limo, with the hideous pink ribbons wrapped around it. The dress was uncomfortable to sit in - the bodice poked you in the ribs and shoved your breasts up into your face. A trashy design for a trashy family. But they had money - that was the real strength in bloodlines these days.

As the car pulled away from your house, you looked out of the window, ignoring any and all conversation as the streets passed by. The church was not far, and you felt like a sinner, walking in to promise yourself to a man that couldn’t have the one thing he had been promised. You’d already given it to someone else.

Your mind flashed back, to the first time you’d seen him, cocky and sure of himself, picking you up from the floor of a local nightspot, where you’d nailed too many tequilas and almost passed out drunk. He’d been a gentleman about it, delivering you home, tucking his number into your purse.  _ Call me when you can walk straight, beautiful. _

After that, he’d taken you out to dinner, and you’d been honest with him from the start. Telling him about Shawn, about the arranged marriage, was hard, and he’d been confused why you’d been betrothed to this strange Alpha without even meeting him, and why it was taking years for the wedding to come to fruition.

You’d asked the same questions yourself. The Peterson family had controlled every aspect of the wedding, down to the date, and your father had gone with it. There was some mention of overseas assets, of business dealings that delayed the marriage, but you hadn’t really cared. As far as you were concerned, it wasn’t going to happen.

In the end, you’d given yourself to your  _ true _ Alpha, and that was when everything had gone wrong. 

“You will end this dalliance with the Winchester boy.” Your father’s words were full of malice and hate, and you’d genuinely been afraid of him. “As far as anyone knows, you are not bonded. You have a duty to your family.”

“I don’t care,” you replied. “I’m his, Dad, and he’s mine. I’m not gonna marry some weirdo Alpha that you picked for me!” You’d stormed out of the house, frightened but determined, and all you’d wanted was your Alpha.

Your father had him arrested. Grand theft auto, through the garage Dean ran in town, with enough evidence to put him away for ten years. You’d screamed and rallied against your father, telling him that you hated him, until he’d finally snapped, and actually hit you.

That was when you knew, you’d rather die than be mated to an Alpha you didn’t want. You had an Alpha. Dean WInchester was your Alpha. But your family were against it, against you breaking tradition. And you found yourself under literal house arrest, not allowed to go anywhere unaccompanied. Dean wrote to you, and his letters were destroyed. You had no idea where he’d been incarcerated, and there was no way of speaking to his Uncle Bobby at the garage. His brother had tried to approach your house once, and had been arrested for trespassing.

The car rounded the corner onto the street where the church stood. It was drizzling softly outside, and you took a deep breath as you climbed out of the car, refusing your father’s hand. He looked hurt, and you wanted to scowl at him, tell him that you didn’t want this. When your mother took your elbow firmly, leaving no room for argument, you wanted to hit her, scream at the unfairness of this treatment.

Ascending the steps at the front of the church, you felt like your legs were made of lead. They grew heavier with each step, until you reached the top and wanted to collapse, to throw yourself back down the concrete staircase. You wanted to throw a tantrum and shout, but all your body did was tremble, as your emotions cascaded like a roaring sound in your ears that only you could hear. Everything was increased, every sense, every negative feeling you’d ever had.

The sun peeked out from among the grey clouds, snatching a reflection off of a car parked to the side of the large stone church. It caught your attention, and you moved your gaze to that spot, seeing the grill of a car you knew intimately. Hope blossomed amidst the anger in your heart, but you kept your cool, allowing your parents to frog march you into the church.

Of course, the entire town was there. It was as close to celebrity as anyone got around here. Women you barely knew were dabbing at their eyes, making comments at your beauty and making the indicator on your bullshit radar fly up to the red zone. You weren’t beautiful like this - you were a prisoner, a heart to ransom and a womb to rent. This was ugly and twisted, and you knew it would show on your face that this was a fate you’d never desired.

At the altar, next to a priest who looked so stiff, he could have been made of wood, Shawn Peterson smiled with crooked, yellowing teeth, and there was a pimple on the end of his nose so large, you could see it from where you paused ten meters away. A shudder ran through you, and you thought, as you climbed the two red felted steps up to stand opposite him, that you might vomit.

The priest started to read in a voice that reminded you of the boring audiotapes your grandmother used to listen to, ones that were documentaries and history editions. He went through the usual spiel, and with every passing word, the knots in your belly grew tighter and you felt like you were in a cage of your own flesh, smashing at the bars with no one to notice.

Someone in the congregation cleared their throat and you were so on edge, you couldn’t help but glance out to the assembled people. Against the back wall, a tall figure leaning, broad shoulders clad in a black coat, and shaggy hair hanging from underneath his hood. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the roaring sound in your ears grew loud enough to drown out the priest.

“If anyone here today,” the priest drawled, “knows of any reason, legal or moral, why this couple should not be wed, speak now,” he paused briefly, looking up over the edge of his book. “Or forever hold your peace.”

You held your breath, the moment stretching into an eternity as your mother turned in her seat nervously, and your father’s face turned white. Shawn kept staring at you, a dimwitted smile on his face, his clammy hands holding yours too tightly.

The figure at the back of the room stood straight, and you heard the revving of an engine outside. It sparked something inside you, a tiny crack in the exterior prison, allowing you the strength to open your mouth.

“I’m not yours.”

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and you felt a small amount of satisfaction. Shawn’s mouth dropped open, cementing your decision with a good dose of halitosis, and you drew back away from him.

“I was never yours.”

The figure at the back of the church pumped his fist as your father stood and approached you angrily. “Y/N, you need to hold your tongue.”

“No,” you snapped back, tearing the veil away from your hair and tossing it to the floor. “I will not be silenced anymore. Your  _ orders _ have no hold on me, Dad.”

He looked aghast, not noticing the doors to the church fling open dramatically, as heavy booted feet touched onto the cobbled floor of the church. “You will obey me, as your Alpha -”

“That’s the thing, old man.” Everyone turned at the new voice, and your heart beat so hard, you thought it might escape your chest. “You’re not her Alpha. You haven’t been her Alpha for years.” Dean’s eyes sparkled as he stared at you, the smile on his face every bit as charming as the first time you’d seen him.

“Alpha,” you whispered, your steps faltering as you moved towards him, your body craving his closeness, his touch. The bond had been stretched thin, but it was still there, despite the years of separation.

“You were supposed to be locked away!”

Dean shrugged, moving closer, tilting his head in a manner that indicated his complete lack of fucks. “Except you never counted on my baby brother going to Stanford,” he replied, his smile growing as you stepped around your father, right into your Alpha’s arms.

Shawn, who had been silent, stoic, since you’d refused him, suddenly exploded, and his best man had to hold him back. “You whore!” he snarled, fighting against the other Alpha’s hold. “You’ve already taken a mate!”

“He’s a sharp one,” Dean murmured, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “I missed you.” He raised his head, landing a glare on your father. “You know that perjury is a crime, right? You set me up, and my brother managed to dig up enough evidence to vindicate me. Unfortunately, that same evidence? Is in the hands of Kansas P.D.” He smiled, holding you a little tighter.

Your father sputtered like an angry fish, while Shawn escaped the hold of his best man, and stomped off towards the back of the church. Turning in Dean’s arms, you pushed up on tiptoes to kiss his lips softly. “Alpha?”

“Yes, Omega?” he purred, nuzzling into you, completely ignoring the hundreds of people around you.

“Take me home.”


End file.
